E 457 
.25 
.B93 
Copy 



/VD AND HIS 
FATHER 



E LAURISTON BULLARD 




Class Ll4o7 

Book ,%Q^ 



(mm^-^BiS^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



It 



/ 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 




Lincoln and His Son "Tad" 

From an Engraving after the Photograph by Brady 



TAD 
AND HIS FATHER 




BY 



FrLAURISTON BULLARD 



WITH FRONTISPIECE 
AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH BY BRADY 



N ON'REFER TI 




oqWVAD ♦ Q3S 



BOSTON 
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1915 






Copyright, igis. 
By Little, Brown, and Company. 



All rights reserved 
Published, September, 1915 



Set up and electrotyped by J . S. Cashing Co., Norwood, Mass. , U.S.A. 
Presswork by S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, Mass., U. S.A, 



m 



.g^^ 



SEP (71915 

^CI.A410497 



H. D. B. 

AND 

C. E. B. 



Sw. 



TAD AND HIS 
FATHER 

ON a day in the late summer of 1862, 
the President of the United States 
and his Cabinet were in conference in a 
large room upon the second floor of the 
White House in Washington. The win- 
dows opened to the southward, and the 
men about the big table, strewn with pa- 
pers and books, sometimes looked rather 
wistfully at the Potomac River and the 
Virginia hills under the warm sunshine 
without. A war map, hanging from a 
roller in one corner of the room, was 

I 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

thickly stuck with pins of various sizes 
and colors. An engraved portrait of 
Andrew Jackson looked severely down 
from the north wall, and upon the man- 
tel there stood a photograph of the Eng- 
lish champion of the American Union, 
John Bright. 

I The members of the Cabinet were 
engaged in a discussion of the military 
situation, and the President was Hsten- 
ing quietly to their informal remarks. 
Their tones and gestures were those of 
men sorely disappointed and somewhat 
discouraged. The Confederates, elated 
by their recent successes, were carrying 
the war into the North, declaring their 
intention to release Maryland from the 
** foreign yoke." 
Intently the President studied the 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



faces of his advisers. There sat William 
Henry Seward, his head, with its beet- 
ling brows, seeming almost too heavy 
for his slender neck and small body. 
The strong, aquiline nose projected over 
the chest in a manner suggestive of 
inquiry and combat. The eyes were 
keen, the mouth firm, the hair white, 
with glimpses in its tangle of an early 
tinge of red. Subtle and witty in speech, 
the Secretary of State indulged in some 
characteristic eccentricities of exaggera- 
tion which brought the President for- 
ward into his favorite attitude for lis- 
tening, both hands clasping his left knee, 
and his face at the same time took on a 
look of worn and sad attention. 

There sat Edwin M. Stanton, burly 
and aggressive, a natural primal force, 

3 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

devoid of tact, scornful of ceremony, 
inexorable as fate, well hit off by the 
name of the god of war which the Presi- 
dent playfully applied to him. A mass 
of black, curling hair and a long beard 
surrounded the leonine head, with its 
sharp eyes, which the spectacles could 
not dim, and its strong, full lips. He 
gave full sway to his brusque intolerance 
of forms and spoke vehemently and with 
intense earnestness of the commanders 
in the field, only in a few minutes to 
veer to a mood as warm and caressing 
as the September sunshine. 

Salmon P. Chase was striding about 
the room, an impressive figure, two 
inches more than six feet in height. 
The President's eyes turned expectantly 
upon him. The Secretary of the Treas- 

4 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

ury looked the Roman statesman, lack- 
ing only the toga to complete the 
illusion. His domelike, massive head 
had the qualities of the marble bust 
which later was to be considered his 
most perfect likeness. His austere 
manner and the cold look in his bluish- 
gray eyes seemed almost to affect the 
atmosphere of the room. 

There also sat Gideon Welles, big, 
quiet, unassuming, his carefully adjusted 
wig giving him an absurd appearance 
which accounted for the popular notion 
that he was an old fogy ; and there, 
too, were the Secretary of the Interior, 
the Attorney-general, and the Post- 
master-general. 

As the President turned from speaker 
to speaker, his hands fondled ever more 

S 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

closely his left knee, and the lines of 
weariness seemed to deepen upon his 
countenance. No feature of the face 
appeared quite to harmonize with any 
other feature. The eyes looked out of 
deep hollows, as If they were placed at 
the bottom of a ravine, and above them 
was a high, wide forehead with a brow 
jutting outward like a cliff. The bushy 
eyebrows were surrounded by delicately 
sensitive muscles and mobile wrinkles. 
The flesh was dropping away from the 
cheekbones, making them look sharp 
and high. The ears were long and pro- 
truding, the lower jaw strong and angu- 
lar, the chin high and solid. The small 
gray eyes dominated the face, and as 
the President uncoiled his limbs and 
slowly arose, he stretched himself up- 

6 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

ward, with that vertical elasticity often 
noticed in him, until he seemed even 
more than six feet and four inches in 
height. The eyes kindled, the pre- 
occupied and dreamy look disappeared, 
the whole aspect became animated, and 
the incongruous features were fused into 
a harmony which no merely decorative 
face ever displays. The marks of his 
early occupations were ineffaceably 
stamped upon Abraham Lincoln, but 
the rail-splitter did not try to cover 
over what he had been by what he had 
become. 

Perhaps he was thinking of some of 
the outward contrasts between himself 
and the other members of the group 
as he looked upon his family of official 
advisers. Here was his chief competi- 

7 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

tor for the Presidency ; there was an- 
other who aspired to the White House 
and whose self-love was wounded that 
one so inferior in the lore of schools 
should be preferred before himself; and 
the Attorney-general had been the fa- 
vorite candidate of the most powerful 
newspaper editor of the North. It was 
a strangely mixed council of state, and 
it required rare skill to hold those able 
and powerful men together. 

With a quizzical smile, the President 
glanced again at Stanton, and said : 

''Well, Mars, the one thing that seems 
to be sure to everybody is that Mc- 
Clellan must keep between Lee and 
Washington J and by jings — " 

He was interrupted. A commotion 
was heard in the hall outside, and blows 

8 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

resounded upon the door. There were 
three sharp raps, followed by two slow 
thumps. In that order the blows were 
repeated over and over. 

"Now I wonder what Tadpole wants," 
said the President. ''You see, that's 
the code I taught him yesterday, three 
short and two long, this way — " and 
he drummed the signal upon the Cabinet 
table — 

• • • .__ .^— — 

"Tad learned it over in the telegraph 
office. It's a sort of bribe to prevent 
him breaking in on us without warning. 
I've got to let him in, you see, because 
I promised never to go back on the 
code." 

But the applicant was getting im- 
patient, and as the President strode 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



towards the door, with the Cabinet 
looking on curiously, it flew open, and 
in rushed a small boy, who plunged 
straight into his father's arms. A jolly, 
round-faced lad he was, cheeks glowing, 
gray eyes flashing, dark hair flying. 
Words were getting into each other's 
way as they tumbled out of his mouth, 
and a slight defect in his utterance 
made it still harder to understand him. 
In his excitement he seemed to explode 
just like a bombshell, and he shattered 
the solemnity of the Cabinet meeting 
quite as effectually as a shell might 
have done. 

The President sat down again and 
took the boy on his knees. A marvel- 
lous change transformed his face. The 
eyes were radiant, the wrinkles were 

lO 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

smoothed out, and a tender smile ef- 
faced every vestige of melancholy. It 
was the look which his friends always 
remembered affectionately, but which 
no artist ever was able to record. 

**Now, Tad, tell us all about it," 
he said, speaking very slowly. 

Tad, sizzling with excitement, jerked 
out his story, much as the sparks sputter 
from a burning fuse. 

"Papa day, isn't the kitchen ours, 
and can't I feed some boys if I want 
to ? There's a lot of 'em down-stairs, 
and they're all my friends, and two of 
'em have got a papa in the army. We're 
all hungry as bears, and I won't eat if 
they can't. And Peter won't let us 
in, and mama is away, and isn't it our 
kitchen ? I want Peter to get out the 

II 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

meat and pies and things he had left 
yesterday, and he called my friends 
street boys, too. Can't I give them 
some dinner ? Because it's our kitchen, 
isn't it ? And please make Peter mind 
me." 

*'How many boys are there, Taddie ?" 
*'Why — , there's the two soldier boys, 
and Perry Kelly, and Bobby Grover, 
and two more, and me ; that makes 
seven. We're terrible hungry : please, 
papa day." 

The President looked gravely around 
upon the Cabinet circle. Chase, stand- 
ing with arms folded, seemed to contem- 
plate the scene as from some Olympian 
height. Stanton was in a melting mood, 
and smiles softened his resolute face. 
Seward, whose native sense of humor 

12 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

had been deepened by his intimate as- 
sociation with the man from the prairies, 
was chuckHng aloud. 

"Seward/' said the boy's father, "you 
must advise with me. This is a case 
for diplomacy." 

The Secretary moved to the side of 
the President's chair and patted the 
boy on the head. 

"Now, Thomas," he said, "you must 
remember that this house belongs to 
the nation, and that the kitchen is 
loaned for your use just for a few years. 
And Mr. Chase will tell you how expen- 
sive it is to carry on this war. So you 
must be careful not to run the govern- 
ment into debt. However, it also seems 
unwise to let promising young citizens 
starve. I guess the Chief Executive 

13 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

had better issue an order on the Com- 
missary Department of the Presidential 
Residence for rations for seven boys." 

Tad Hstened quietly to this speech, 
although he understood it only in part. 
But the twinkle in the speaker's eyes 
he understood very well, and he wriggled 
out of his father's arms, rushed to the 
table, and came back with pencil and 
paper. With a droll smile, the President 
wrote a line and signed it, remarking 
that he *' reckoned Peter would come 
to time now." This '"order" he de- 
livered into the brown hands of the 
eager boy. 

The Secretary of War stepped pon- 
derously forward. 

''My boy," he said, and there was a 
mellow quality in his voice which some 

14 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



members of the Cabinet did not remem- 
ber ever to have perceived before, "you 
seem to care a great deal for the soldiers 
and their children. Wouldn't j^ou like 
to be a soldier yourself?'' 

"Yes, I would, but I'm only a boy." 

"Well," continued Stanton, "perhaps 
I can fix it so you may be a real soldier 
and a boy at the same time. Anyhow, 
I'm going to make you a lieutenant of 
United States Volunteers. Maybe Peter 
will obey an army officer." 

"Do you mean I'll have a uniform, 
and straps on my shoulders, and brass 
buttons, and a sword .?" 

"Why — yes. Tad, I think you would 
have to have all the trappings and pomp 
of your rank. And if you could muster 
a company, you might drill your men." 

15 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



"'Papa day, papa day, you hear that ?" 
cried the boy triumphantly. And then, 
as a doubt entered his mind, he added : 

''He isn't laughing at me, is he, papa 
day?" 

**No, Tad,'' said the President, rising 
and putting his arm about the shoulders 
of his son. "No, I don't think Mars is 
laughing at you, but just to clinch the 
thing, I'd make him give me a regular 
commission if I were you." 
, Instantly Tad was in full eruption 
again. 

"You mean a paper that I can show 
folks so they'll know I'm a soldier.?" 
he cried, and with the question on his 
lips, he scrambled headlong to the table 
for paper, and then to the Secretary, 
like a small hurricane in knickerbockers, 

i6 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

and that willing official promptly drew 
up an impressive looking document, re- 
quiring the proper clerks in his Depart- 
ment to issue a commission as first 
lieutenant, and to provide the uniform 
and sword of the rank, the commission 
to be presented to himself for his signa- 
ture, and to be forwarded duly to the 
White House to Thomas Lincoln, aged 
nine years. 

Tad beamed upon the Secretary, 
dashed at the long legs of his father and 
wrapped his arms about one of them for 
a moment, and without another word 
clattered out of the door and down the 
hall. 

''Well, Mars," said the President, "I 
reckon you've made the boy so happy 
that the place won't hold him for awhile. 

17 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

I don't think you'll regret what you've 
done, either. Did I ever tell you about 
Sam Waters and the famous steed he 
brought to Sangamon County?" 

But just then the President glanced 
again at Chase, and as he took in the 
imperious figure, the arms still folded 
and the countenance stamped unmis- 
takably with disapproval, he doubled 
together with uproarious laughter, in 
which every member of the circle joined, 
excepting only the martinet who watched 
over the finances of the nation. 

"Well, boys," said the President pres- 
ently, "we'll get back to work and let 
the Sangamon steed go for this time." 

An hour later, the others having gone 
their several ways, the President walked 
across with Stanton from the White 

i8 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



House to the big building which housed 
the War Department. As they left the 
mansion, they caught sight of a group of 
boys sitting on a flight of steps at the 
rear. They had been having a feast, 
and Tad, nutcracker in hand, was dis- 
tributing the final course. Perry Kelly, 
who was about Tad's own age, was the 
son of a Pennsylvania Avenue tinsmith. 
Bobby Grover's father was the manager 
of the National Theatre, usually called 
Grover's, to which the President went 
more frequently, perhaps, than to the 
better-known playhouse conducted by 
John T. Ford. Charlie Forbes, the big 
Irish footman, happened to be passing, 
and he stopped to look on for a moment, 
only to have his hands filled with nuts 
by the generous master of ceremonies. 

19 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

The Secretary and the President re- 
garded the scene as they crossed the 
lawn, and Lincoln remarked humor- 
ously : 

"'Oil's well that ends well', as my 
friend Nasby says. I reckon the 
kitchen's ours." 

The President called Tad the tyrant 
of the White House, and the degree of 
liberty enjoyed by the boy was almost 
a scandal in the eyes of some very 
"proper" persons. The father's habit of 
"having a little fun with the boys", 
with the simple manners and the story- 
telling practices, came right along to 
Washington from the plain home in 
Illinois. Willie, the second of the three 
lads, died in February, 1862, and from 
that time, as Robert, the oldest, was 

20 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

away at school, the President indulged 
*' Tadpole" more than ever and made 
him almost a constant companion. The 
lively little fellow always had some active 
enterprise on hand, but he was treated 
with affectionate toleration by every 
occupant of the mansion, while the 
office-seekers petted him and the offi- 
cials of the various departments showered 
gifts upon him. One presented him 
with a box of tools, and the boy pro- 
ceeded to use them not only in the 
stables and the kitchen but in the **show 
rooms'' of the White House as well. 
The big table in the Cabinet Room was 
used once or twice for a work-bench ; 
he drove nails into the old-fashioned 
mahogany desk used by John Hay ; 
and he carried his experiments in car- 

/ 21 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

pentry into the small room in which 
his father slept ; but when he attacked 
the chairs in the showy East Room, the 
tools disappeared overnight, and no 
one seemed to know what had become 
of them. 

Conditions in the White House favored 
the innocent lawlessness of the boy. 
Visitors came in swarms from early 
morning until midnight. Office-seekers, 
military and naval commanders, private 
soldiers, inventors with devices which 
they fondly believed would revolution- 
ize warfare, stricken fathers and mothers 
upon errands of supplication, often 
blockaded the way between the Presi- 
dent's office and the private apartments 
of his family. The President did not 
care for ceremony, and in that critical 

22 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

period unimportant formalities were 
thought by many persons to be out of 
place. Lincoln, with his burden of 
responsibility for the preservation of 
the Republic, lived with the single pur- 
pose of saving the Union, and found his 
relaxation in telling stories, attending 
the theatre, reading the poets, and pour- 
ing out the fullness of his tender heart 
upon the one child who shared his home, 
the warm-blooded boy who was all the 
dearer because of an impediment in his 
speech. 

That September day of 1862 was one 
of the very liveliest days for mischievous, 
impulsive, imperious, sensitive, boister- 
ous, big-hearted Tad. No one about 
the White House forgot it for a long 
time. **What will he do next?" asked 

23 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

Louis, the messenger, of James Halliday, 
the White House carpenter. Only a 
few hours after he burst in upon the 
Cabinet meeting, a new freak caused a 
hubbub throughout the mansion. The 
President was busy over the charts and 
papers in his workroom. All the secre- 
taries, John G. Nicolay, John Hay, and 
William O. Stoddard, were in their places. 
Below stairs parties of visitors were 
strolling about the public apartments. 
Suddenly the bell above the desk of 
Secretary Stoddard jangled violently. 
Hastily the young assistant jumped up ; 
he was startled, for never before had 
the President rung so vehemently. As 
he turned toward the President's room, 
he heard other doors opening hurriedly, 
and both the senior secretaries came 

24 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

hustling in. And along the hall, almost 
running, came the messenger, and to the 
amazement of the bewildered group, 
Edward, the historic White House door- 
keeper, who had served every President 
since Taylor, was laboring up the stairs. 
Even the bell in the President's own 
room was ringing. They were about 
to rap upon his door when it swung 
open, and the President stood before 
them, with a patient smile on his face. 

** Maybe you'd better look for Tad/' 
he said. 

Halliday promptly acted upon the 
hint. Sure enough, way up in the attic 
he found the boy, pulling with all his 
might at the yoke which formed the 
connecting link for all the bells of the 
White House system. The instant Tad 

25 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

saw the carpenter, he gave the yoke one 
final swing and plunged for the stairs, 
down which he ran pell-mell and charged 
into the sure refuge of his father's room. 
But the President seemed already to have 
forgotten the episode, for he was in close 
conversation with a big man in uniform, 
who was just in from the army lines. 

For a most remarkably long time Tad 
was quiet. His father sat in a big chair, 
one leg over its arm, his long body twisted 
into a grotesque position of rest and 
comfort. At his knee stood the boy, 
looking not at all like the rollicking 
youngster who had stormed the War 
Secretary that morning, but listening 
gravely to the conference between the 
brigadier-general and the commander-in- 
chief of the armies of the United States. 

26 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



The door was open a trifle, and the 
President glanced up as a quiet knock 
fell upon the panels. There stood Ed- 
ward, solemnly rubbing his hands. The 
caller whom he had ushered all the way- 
upstairs was invisible as yet, but a 
cane with an ornamental handle pro- 
truded from behind him. Quick as a 
flash Lincoln unwound his legs and rose 
to his feet in time to respond with 
dignity to the ceremonious greetings of 
the Senator from Massachusetts, Charles 
Sumner. The President knew that cane, 
and its owner was one of the few men who 
were allowed immediate access to his 
office at almost any time. The general 
retreated to a window, and the boy 
moved to the far side of the table, 
whence he contemplated with unblink- 

27 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

ing eyes the distinguished statesman, 
whose solemn mien and gorgeous waist- 
coat were almost starthng in their in- 
congruity. After a Uttle conversation 
about the mihtary situation, Mr. Sumner 
made known his wish that a certain 
gentleman should be appointed to a 
certain consulate. Considerate good-bys 
were then exchanged, and the senator 
took his walking stick and made an 
elaborate exit. As the door closed, the 
President smiled broadly, noting the 
curious and incredulous look upon the 
soldier's face. 

"Come up. General," he called. 
"When we are in Rome, we must do as 
the Romans do, you know. I don't 
know much about bishops, but Sumner 
has always been my idea of a bishop," 

28 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

and again he twisted his long legs about 
his favorite chair and snuggled down 
into a comfortable attitude. 

But Tad could stand the quiet no 
longer. "Good-by, papa day," he 
called, and out he hurried, closing the 
door with a resounding slam. In half 
an hour the house again was in commo- 
tion. Several ladies from Boston were 
inspecting the residence. In the East 
Room they looked with seemly reverence, 
although with some disappointment, 
upon the velvet carpet, the garish plush 
upholsterings, the frescoed ceiling, the 
glittering chandeliers, and the mahogany 
furniture, some of which evidently was 
in need of repairs. A door at the far 
end of the main corridor opened with a 
bang, and the solemn stillness was rudely 

29 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

shattered by a frightful racket. The 
Boston ladies were amazed and horrified 
by what they saw. Charging through 
the hall came a shouting boy, flourish- 
ing a long whip and driving a pair of 
goats, hitched tandem fashion to a 
kitchen chair. The party of visitors 
watched him guide his horned team into 
the sacred precincts of the great East 
Room. They heard him yell: *'Look 
out there!" and their staring eyes fol- 
lowed his course around the big apart- 
ment and through the doorway, and they 
knew from what they then heard that 
he must have driven those goats through 
the vestibule and down the front steps 
of the presidential mansion. They gazed 
aghast at one another, and it was only 
after an interval of shocked silence 

30 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

that they achieved a sufficient recovery 
to make a hasty and rather stealthy 
departure as from a sanctuary pro- 
faned. 

The sun was almost down that day, 
and the cool of the evening was settling 
over the city, when the manager of the 
telegraph office in the War Department 
came to the White House with a message 
from the governor of one of the most 
important northern States. As he 
entered the hall, passing the solemn- 
faced doorkeeper, Tad emerged from 
some nook, seized his hand, and walked 
up-stairs with him. Lincoln found the 
despatch so urgent that he decided to 
have a talk with the governor by wire. 

"Tad," he asked, ''want to go along 
to the War Department .?" 

31 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

The lad snatched up a gray plaid 
shawl which was hanging from a tall 
desk standing against the wall, the father 
threw it over his shoulders, and the three 
tramped down-stairs together. As they 
reached the gravel walk, Lincoln 
stretched out his long arm and picked 
up a pebble, challenging the others to 
a game of ''followings." The President 
proved much the best marksman. Most 
of Tad's shots, to his chagrin, went wild. 
His father kept the marker stone well 
ahead, and laughed heartily when, as 
the Department was reached, he was 
declared the winner. 

'"If your arms were as long as mine, 
I reckon you'd throw better," he said. 

In the cipher room the President hung 
his shawl over the top of the screen door 

32 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

opening into the larger apartment in 
which the operators sat at their cHcking 
keys, and took his accustomed place at 
a desk between two windows. Presently 
questions and replies were being ex- 
changed over the wire, and when the 
President's inquiries had been answered 
satisfactorily, he leaned back in his 
chair and stared intently out upon Penn- 
sylvania Avenue. The operators and 
cipher readers looked at him curiously 
as they often had done before, when that 
mood of melancholy meditation settled 
upon him. No one disturbed him. 

Tad meantime promptly got into 
trouble. In the telegraph room the in- 
struments were set upon marble-topped 
tables, and the boy freakishly dipped 
his fingers into an ink-well and smeared 

33 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

several of the white slabs. For several 
minutes no one noticed what he was 
doing, and then an operator seized the 
boy and led him at arm's length to the 
cipher room. Every one was a little 
embarrassed when Tad faced his father 
and held up his blackened fingers. 

The President glanced at the table- 
tops, smiled a little at the operator who 
still clutched the boy's shoulder, and 
gathered the youngster up into his arms, 
careless of the damage the inky hands 
might do to his linen, saying quietly : 
"Well, Tad, we'll go ; I'm afraid they're 
abusing you." Back across the lawn to 
the White House he carried the lad, 
completing the last of the three trips 
which he made every day between his 
home and the office to which came the 

34 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



despatches from the armies in the field. 
It never seemed to occur to the Presi- 
dent that there was any sacrifice of 
personal dignity in his going thus to the 
War Department for news. 

Late that night, after the President 
had worked for many hours over the 
ever-accumulating piles of papers on the 
table in his office, he sought his bed- 
room, a small apartment just across the 
hall from the room in which Tad slept. 
Lincoln was in a calico dressing-gown, 
which reached clear to his ankles, and he 
shuffled along in old-fashioned leather 
slippers, above which showed a margin 
of home-made blue stockings. He set 
down his candle, closed the door, and 
picked up a little volume of the poems 
of Thomas Hood. He had scarcely 

35 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

settled into a chair when the signal 
tapping began upon the panels — 



Instantly his face lost its look of 
weariness, and with a smile that made 
the homely countenance wonderfully 
handsome, he drew the bolt and ad- 
mitted the boy. In bounced Tad in 
his white nightgown. Many a night upon 
waking he had crossed the hall and crept 
into his father's bed. And to-night again 
the President and Tad, the lonely man 
who bore in his heart the sorrows of the 
nation and the lad in whose comradeship 
he found relief from the awful ordeal 
which it was his duty to endure, the 
father and the boy together entered the 
peaceful refuge of sleep. 



36 



II 

THE Secretary of War completely 
and promptly fulfilled his promise 
to provide Tad with the uniform and 
other equipments appropriate to the rank 
which had been conferred upon him. 
From the arsenal twenty-five guns were 
sent over to the White House, and these 
the youngest lieutenant of United States 
Volunteers was permitted to keep in a 
room in the basement, while for his own 
headquarters there was assigned a room 
near the laundry. The energetic boy 
proceeded at once to draft recruits for 
a company, and the gardeners and ser- 
vants about the mansion were duly 

37 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

drilled and marched around the grounds 
and through the halls of the house. The 
juvenile autocrat even dismissed the 
regular sentries one evening and kept 
his company on guard duty until they 
were relieved by a special deputy under 
the authority of the commander-in- 
chief. 

In the pride of his heart, Tad caused 
himself to be photographed several times 
in his pretty uniform, gloves, cap, sword, 
and all. When, in the heat of the sum- 
mer, the family removed to the stone 
cottage in the grounds of the Soldiers' 
Home in the suburbs of Washington, the 
young lieutenant in full uniform often 
rode out from the city in the evening, 
ambling along on his pony beside the 
towering figure of the President. In the 

38 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

heated term, however, he went north 
with his mother, leaving his father, as 
he said, to "bache it" in the summer 
residence. 

During these absences, the boy was 
constantly in his father's mind. In Lin- 
coln's letters there were frequent 
thoughtful allusions to his son. "Tell 
dear Tad," he wrote, *'poor * Nanny 
Goat' is lost, and the housekeeper and 
I are in great distress about it. The 
day you left, Nanny was found resting 
herself and chewing her little cud in 
the middle of Tad's bed ; but now she 
is gone ! The gardeners kept complain- 
ing that she destroyed the flowers until 
it was concluded to bring her down to 
the White House. This was done, and 
the second day she disappeared, and has 

39 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

not been heard of since. This is the 
last we know of poor 'Nanny' !" 

Again the President, always sensitive 
to the possible significance of the dreams 
which visited him at various times when 
important events impended, telegraphed 
Mrs. Lincoln at Philadelphia to put ^ 
Tad's pistol away, for he had had ''an 
ugly dream about him." 

The great event in the military life 
of Tad was the grand review of the 
Army of the Potomac, when he shared 
the honors with the President. Down 
the river the party sailed on a little 
steamboat to Aquia Creek, and thence, 
in an ordinary freight car, with rough 
plank benches for seats, but abundantly 
bedecked with flags, they rode to Fal- 
mouth station. In an ambulance, 

40 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

guarded by a cavalry escort, they went 
on to the headquarters of the army, 
where several large hospital tents with 
wooden floors and camp bedsteads were 
assigned for their use. 

For five days the party were in camp, 
and during the time Tad was a very 
busy boy. On the first day he explored 
the whole outfit, the printing office, the 
telegraph station, the big bakery, the 
tents of the officers, and the hospitals, 
and everywhere he was made welcome. 
He wanted to see how the ''gray backs" 
looked, and was taken down to the 
picket lines opposite Fredericksburg to 
have a peep at them. The smoke of 
the camp-fires of the enemy ascended 
from behind a ridge, and above a hand- 
some residence on a height floated a 

41 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

flag of stars and bars. Confederate sen- 
tinels strode jauntily down to the river's 
brink and peered across the stream. 

On each of the following days there 
was a parade and review. For the first 
time the entire cavalry force of the Army 
of the Potomac had been massed as one 
corps, and scores of regiments of infantry 
also were ready for inspection. To these 
reviews there rode from headquarters 
from day to day a brilliant cavalcade. 
In the train there were captains, and 
colonels, brigadier-generals, and major- 
generals, and numbers of staff officers. 
Upon the flank were the President's 
guard of honor, the Philadelphia Lancers, 
in showy, gold-laced uniforms, and 
superbly mounted. In front of the 
column rode the commanding general 

42 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

and the commander-in-chief. And some- 
what to one side, riding the small gray 
horse which had been provided for him, 
and attended by a young trooper as- 
signed to act as his orderly, rode Tad. 

The great spectacle was the cavalry 
review, but the sixty thousand infantry- 
men who marched past the reviewing 
staff made an impressive sight. Tad 
delighted especially in the gallop down 
the long lines, and in the thrilling effect 
of the martial music of the trumpets, 
throbbing drums, and shrilling fifes. 

The President was not a graceful 
rider. The general sat his horse like a 
dragoon, but the very height of Lincoln 
made him look awkward on horseback. 
Some who saw him those days were 
reminded of the saying that his legs 

43 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

were so long that it was impossible to 
exaggerate them. Spectators wondered 
if they would not become entangled 
with the legs of his horse. The left 
hand held the reins, and the arm was so 
long that the elbow projected behind 
his back for all the world like the hind 
leg of a grasshopper. The situation was 
made all the more absurd by his stove- 
pipe hat. This he constantly removed 
in saluting the men in the ranks, although 
he merely touched it in acknowledging 
the courtesies of the officers, and its 
management was a rather precarious 
feat of dexterity. 

But how the soldiers liked him ! They 
called him ** Father Abraham;" they 
repeated his droll stories, praising his 
shrewdness and his wit ; and they de- 

44 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



dared that when he found out about 
their complaints, every case would be 
adjusted. What did it matter if his 
trousers were half way up to his knees 
and his socks visible to all the army? 
He had a heart for the common soldier, 
which was more than could be said for 
most of the ''fuss and feathers" com- 
manders they might name. 

And then the word was passed from 
rank to rank that the boy riding on the 
flank of the reviewing column, with his 
short legs sticking straight out from 
his saddle, was Tad. And how they 
cheered him ! He was in the lieutenant's 
uniform, and a gray riding cloak floated 
behind him, as his pony galloped across 
the fields. No wonder that the soldiers 
burst into an ecstasy of enthusiasm over 

45 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

him. Thousands of them had boys at 
home. Father Abraham had brought 
this sturdy, fresh-faced youngster with 
him just on purpose to let them know 
that he did not forget their famihes. 
Well, it was just like him. God bless 
him — he had a heart for the common 
soldier. Hurrah for the President and 
hurrah for the boy ! They swung their 
hats and cheered for Lincoln, and they 
cheered and swung their hats for Tad. 
He was a reminder of home and of what 
was waiting for them when they should 
get home. 

And how Tad enjoyed it all. Some 
one told him that he ought to doff his 
cap to the soldiers, but he said : ''That's 
the way the general and father do, but 
Tm only a boy." He rode hard and was 

46 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

quite fearless in the saddle, although 
there was some danger at times that he 
would be thrown from his horse. But 
the orderly was always on guard, and 
every night brought him into camp 
greatly excited, but safe, and very, very 
hungry. 

Tad and his father were frequent 
patrons of the theatre. Both to 
Grover's and to Ford's they came to see 
extravaganzas and occasionally a min- 
strel show, and the President was con- 
stantly in attendance when Shakespeare 
was played. He came often for no 
other purpose than to get away from 
the multitudes who constantly impor- 
tuned him at the White House. Some- 
times they were a family party, and 
again Tad and his tutor would come 

47 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

alone. Burke, the White House coach- 
man, would drive them to the door, 
CharHe Forbes would leap to the ground 
and pilot them into the theatre, and 
after the performance the carriage would 
be waiting to take them home. The 
family came to Grover's to see Charlotte 
Cushman, J. W. Wallack, and E. L. 
Davenport, when they appeared together 
in " Macbeth " for the benefit"of the Sani- 
tary Commission ; and when Edwin Booth 
was in Washington for his only visit dur- 
ing wartime, they saw him in "^ Othello," 
the " Merchant of Venice," and John 
Howard Payne's '* Brutus." 

Tad became so much at home at 
Grover's that he made a chum of the 
director's son and frequently visited the 
stage rehearsals alone. The stage attaches 

48 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

at once became his friends, and the restless 
lad was permitted to "assist'' in placing 
the properties when the settings were 
changed, so that at last he was spending 
more time behind than before the scenes. 
Indeed, he got almost as severe an attack 
of stage fever as of the military disease, 
and rigged up a little theatre of his own 
in a small room in the White House. 
Perry Kelly and Bobby Grover were 
the "actors'', and Leonard Grover, the 
latter's father, loaned the lads some 
costumes and a few pieces of stage 
furniture. Halliday's services were de- 
manded of the President, and the car- 
penter arranged the orchestra, par- 
quet, stage, curtains, and footlights for 
their miniature playhouse. Several little 
"dramas" were duly produced with the 

49 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

employes of the mansion playing 
audience, and on one or two occasions 
the President appeared chuckling at the 
door ; and once he was accompanied 
by a distinguished war governor whom 
he brought over from his workshop **to 
have a look at the latest freak of the 
boys." In one instance a minstrel show 
was given in the attic. 

While the artist, Frank B. Carpenter, 
was at work upon his emancipation 
group, he made use of the "theatre" 
as a dark room in which the photogra- 
phers, who were taking pictures to aid 
him, might do their work. This in- 
censed the spirited boy, who felt that 
his rights had been challenged. He 
turned out the photographers and locked 
the door upon their plates and chemicals. 

so 




TAD AND HIS FATHER 



Not until the President hunted up the 
boy would he yield the key, and then, 
as Mr. Carpenter told the story, Lin- 
coln said : "When I went to him, he 
was violently excited. I said to him : 
'Tad, do you know you are making 
your father a great deal of trouble.?' 
Then he burst into tears and instantly 
gave up the key." 

One night, early In 1864, Grover's 
National Theatre was so crowded that 
scarcely a foot of standing room was 
unoccupied. The audience represented 
almost every class of persons in the 
States of the West and North. Fashion- 
able women filled the boxes, some of 
them belonging to old Washington fam- 
ilies whose sympathies were predomi- 
nantly with the South. They were openly 

SI 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

stared at by the army officers who solidl}^ 
filled the front rows in the pit. The 
permanent and the floating populations 
of the city were mingled in the crowd, 
and many strangers looked curiously 
upon the scene. The predominating 
color was army blue, for multitudes of 
soldiers were always in the city in those 
days. Many Congressmen and several 
Senators were present, and the audience 
had loudly cheered two or three well- 
known army commanders as they came 
down the aisles. The orchestra was 
vigorously playing the popular war songs 
of the day, and hundreds sang the 
choruses. 

Just as the people were becoming 
somewhat impatient, the President 
arrived. It had been announced that 

52 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

he would be present, and a box at the 
right of the stage was designated for 
his occupancy by the flags with which 
it was festooned. The appearance of 
an usher at the door of the box was the 
signal for the audience to stand. A 
minute later the President entered, and 
with him was a small boy who stood at 
his side for a moment, looking out upon 
the house. There was a burst of ap- 
plause, and Lincoln bowed gravely. As 
soon as he was seated, the curtain rose, 
but for a time many in the audience 
paid little attention to the stage. Scores 
of opera glasses were turned upon the 
President's box, and hundreds who had 
never seen the chief magistrate of the 
nation watched him intently now. 
The '*play" was better calculated, 

53 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

perhaps, to appeal to the boy than to 
his father. Tad had seen it before 
more than once, and it was he, indeed, 
who had persuaded his father to attend 
the performance. It was billed as a 
"spectacular extravaganza" under the 
title of *'The Seven Sisters", and it had 
run for more than eight months at 
Laura Keene's Theatre in New York 
City. Founded upon an old German 
play called "The Seven Daughters of 
Satan " , it represented the group of 
sisters as escaping for a time from the 
Plutonian realms for a visit to the earth. 
The conclusion was a "transformation 
scene" depicting "the birth of Cupid" 
and advertised as a great triumph of 
stagecraft. A play of such a nature 
admitted of many interpolations, and 

54 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

during its Washington run patriotic epi- 
sodes were freely introduced. In one 
army tableau ''Rally 'Round the Flag" 
was sung by a soloist, with a big chorus 
coming in on the refrain, and such 
characters as Uncle Sam and Columbia, 
Liberty and Union, Massachusetts and 
South Carolina were added to the usual 
cast. The play was all movement and 
lilting melody, color and tinsel, and it 
stirred the audience to much laughter and 
enthusiasm. Persons who studied the 
face of the President could see that he had 
forgotten the cares of his office, that he 
was not thinking of the strategy of the 
campaign nor of the clamor of the office- 
seekers. Politics and war had no exist- 
ence for the time. He smiled broadly 
and occasionally laughed heartily. Tad 

55 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

had disappeared, but the President 
thought nothing of it, for the boy had 
the run of the house, and every usher 
and stage hand was his friend. 

Quite in his accustomed way the boy 
had gone behind the scenes, where he 
roamed about at will, responding to the 
greetings of his acquaintances. Finally he 
went to a wardrobe and took out an army 
blouse much too big for him, but into 
which he struggled nevertheless, and 
found a cap which proved a better fit. 
Thus rigged out, he strolled among the 
"gallant soldier boys" of the chorus, 
until the finale came in the army episode. 

Now it happened that at the time the 
celebrated John McDonough was taking 
a leading part in the spectacle, and in 
the final tableau it was he who sang 

56 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

**The Battle Cry of Freedom" with 
thrilling effect. The soldiers and fairies 
who filled the stage joined in the choruses, 
and it was expected that at the end the 
audience would catch the infection, so 
that stage, pit, galleries, and boxes would 
all be singing together. 

Tad that night walked boldly out upon 
the stage with the chorus and took a 
place at the end of the front line, looking 
grotesquely conspicuous in his misfit 
uniform. McDonough sang the first 
stanza, and as the chorus swung into 
the refrain, he caught sight of Tad, whom 
he knew to be the President's son. In- 
stantly the soloist walked across the 
stage and placed the silk flag he carried 
in the boy's hands. The lad rose to 
the occasion and waved the flag with 

57 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

all his might, as McDonough sang the 
second stanza. While the second chorus 
was sung, the soloist led Tad forward 
and sang the remaining stanzas with 
the boy standing at his side. The 
theatre grew so still that the dropping 
of a fan in one of the boxes startled the 
entire audience. Every eye was fixed 
upon the strange little figure standing be- 
side the soloist. '^The chorus concluded, 
McDonough acted upon an inspiration 
of the moment and sang it over again, 
using a variant, however, which made a 
blend of two popular songs of the day : 

^' We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred 

thousand more, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, 
We will rally 'round the flag, boys, rally once 

again, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom.'' 

58 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

The innovation must be intended as 
an impersonation of the spirit of juvenile 
patriotism, thought the audience. But 
how small the boy was, how ridiculous 
was the man's blouse he was wearing, 
and how intently he was watching the 
President's box ! McDonough was help- 
ing him wave the flag, as if in salutation 
of the nation's chief executive. And 
how amazed the President seemed to 
be. Surely that look of astonishment 
must mean something more than sur- 
prise at this novelty in the performance. 

McDonough sang the third stanza : 

*' We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true, 

and brave, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, 
And altho' they may be poor not a man shall 

be a slave, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom." 

59 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

A whisper ran over the house Hke a 
fire over an HHnois prairie. It passed 
from Hp to lip, and every one who heard 
it looked again first at the boy and then 
at the President. Some one had recog- 
nized the lad — some Senator or Repre- 
sentative probably, who saw him every 
little while at the White House. *'It's 
Tad Lincoln!" The word reached the 
gallery, and in a minute or two the 
farthest spectator in the rearmost seat 
had heard it. **Tad Lincoln, the Pres- 
ident's son. Father Abraham is in the 
box, and his boy is on the stage!" 

Everybody knew about Tad. They 
had seen him riding through the streets 
in the big black carriage behind the two 
black horses. ''That's the boy," said 
one soldier to another. ''I saw him 

60 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

with his father watching the ball game 
between the Commissary and the 
Quartermaster's departments out at 
Sixth and K streets the other day." 
Others had seen him playing with his 
dog team by the Potomac, and just a 
few days before he had kept shop in the 
historic portico of the Presidential man- 
sion. Halliday had supplied him with 
some boards and trestles, and he had 
spread out his stock of apples and ginger- 
bread where no one could enter the build- 
ing without being importuned to buy. 
The stock was purchased from an old 
woman who had a stand near the Treas- 
ury Building. Tad explained that his 
was one of the fairs for the benefit of 
the Sanitary Commission which then 
were so common throughout the country. 

6i 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

Every office-seeker and every office- 
holder who passed through the portico 
was glad to buy of ''the President's 
son", some of the customers hoping 
doubtless to reach the father by this 
indirect method of flattery. Some of 
the men who had been levied upon were 
in the theatre that night, and they con- 
firmed the identification of the little 
fellow who was vigorously waving the 
big silk flag while McDonough sang 
another stanza. 

" So we* re springing to the call from the East and 

from the West, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom, 
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we 

love the best, 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom." 

A wave of enthusiasm swept over the 

house as Tad bravely started in upon 

62 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

the chorus with McDonough, and the 
hundred stage singers behind them. If 
the President had been surprised, he 
was hugely amused now. He leaned 
far forward in his chair, his hands upon 
his knees, and swayed backward and 
forward with laughter. The audience 
laughed in sympathy with him, and 
although a few of the ladies were almost 
in tears, with a mighty roar the great 
crowd arose, the choristers upon the 
stage moved forward, and players, gal- 
lery, soloist, and Tad all joined in that 
final refrain : 

" We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred 

thousand more. 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom. 
While we rally 'round the flag, boys, rally once 

again. 
Shouting the battle-cry of freedom." 

63 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

In a great surge of ecstasy the chorus, 
sung again and yet again, rolled through 
the auditorium, waxing in fervor with 
every repetition. It seemed to dominate 
and absorb every soul there ; every 
voice joined in it ; men who had not sung 
for years, and some who fancied they 
could not sing at all, joined in that 
simple tune. It rang forth with a volume 
and majesty that put thrill and fire into 
the homely words, as if a magnificent 
assurance had taken possession of that 
multitude of singers, an overwhelming 
conviction that the men would be found 
to save the Union. 

That night at Grover's Theatre a 
great tide of patriotism flooded every 
heart. Men and women looked upon 
the President and saw his face wearing 

64 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

a smile of transforming and irradiating 
sweetness, as he sat erect and very still 
in his box. They looked at Tad, and, 
although they could not hear his voice, 
they saw that his lips were moving, and 
that he kept his flag waving. And as 
the refrain ended, an army officer sit- 
ting almost under the stage led the 
audience and the players in three lusty 
cheers for *' Father Abraham and his 
boy." As silence fell upon the weary 
throng, the President rose and bowed, — 
and no diplomat versed in the usages of 
Old World courts could have exceeded 
the dignified impressiveness of that ges- 
ture, — and the curtain came down. 



65 



• III 

As time went on, the President more 
and more made a companion of 
the lively lad. General Grant came to 
Washington and had conferences with 
the commander-in-chief, with Tad stand- 
ing gravely by. On a day shortly before 
Christmas, he interrupted a Cabinet 
meeting to obtain a reprieve for a turkey 
to which he had taken a fancy and which 
had been marked for execution. Several 
times he brought cases of distress to the 
attention of the President. He would 
go about the hall, asking callers what 
they wanted. One day he found an 
old, poorly-dressed woman in the corridor, 

66 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

and he rushed to his father with her 
story of a husband in a mihtary prison 
and some cold and hungry boys and 
girls at home. He came back with a 
promise of help, and the woman and the 
boy cried together while she called down 
the blessings of heaven upon him. Tad 
sometimes took petitioners by the hand 
and dragged them forthwith into his 
father's presence. 

Almost every day the President would 
have at least one romp with the boy. 
The game at times was blind man's 
buff ; again the tall man would run 
through the rooms and the hall above 
stairs with Tad mounted upon his 
shoulders ; and often they played horse, 
with each alternating as the driver. 
In the early evening or late afternoon, 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

when the work of the day was about 
over, and the President had a brief 
respite before he began the toil of the 
night, he would call the boy to his side 
and talk over the doings of the day with 
him. They looked through books of 
engravings together, and Lincoln sharp- 
ened pencils for the boy and helped 
him keep track of his playthings. Fre- 
quently the lad fell asleep in the office, 
and the President would carry him ten- 
derly across the hall to bed. A succes- 
sion of tutors came to the White House, 
but Tad was equally intolerant of them 
all, and the father said he "might as 
well run for awhile — there'd be time 
enough for him to sober up and get 
sedate in the future." 
One Friday in summer the President 

68 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

and General Eaton were in conference 
in the White House, and Tad was mak- 
ing such a war map as no strategist 
ever would have dreamed of by poking 
the pins into the chart in the corner at 
his own freakish pleasure. The wind 
was blowing from the Virginia side of 
the Potomac, and it brought through the 
windows the sound of a musketry volley. 
The President rose and walked across 
the room and stood gazing at the Vir- 
ginia hills, with his arm about Tad's 
shoulders. As he came back to his 
chair, there were tears streaming down 
his cheeks. 

"This is the day when they shoot 
deserters," he said, **and I am wonder- 
ing whether I have used the pardoning 
power enough. Some of the officers, 

69 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

to be sure, say that I am using it so 
freely that I am demoraHzing the army 
and destroying its discipHne." And 
then, as Tad came to his knee, he added : 
"But Tad here tells me I'm doing right, 
and Tad's advice usually is pretty good." 
And now at last the war was drawing 
to a close. General Grant advised the 
President that the final struggle was at 
hand, and he started for the head- 
quarters of the Army of the Potomac. 
A side-wheel passenger steamer called 
the River Queen, closely followed by 
the despatch boat Bat, left Washington 
on the afternoon of March 23, 1865, 
and on board were the President, Mrs. 
Lincoln, and Tad. The boy had the 
run of the boat and explored it from 
bow to stern and from engine-room to 

70 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

pilot-house. Late on the evening of 
March 24, the steamer came to anchor 
off City Point. The next morning Tad's 
grown-up brother, Robert, now a cap- 
tain on the staff of General Grant, 
came on board and reported some de- 
tails of a Confederate assault, and at 
the breakfast table the President, with 
Tad at his side, wrote a despatch to 
Stanton about "the rumpus at the 
front." The ''rumpus'' in fact was the 
severe action at Fort Stedman, in which 
several thousand men were lost. Lin- 
coln visited the scene ; he saw the men 
of the Sanitary Commission attending 
to the wounded and the burial parties 
caring for the dead ; and he returned 
to the ship looking worn and haggard. 
The next morning the River Queen 

71 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

steamed to Harrison's Landing, and Tad 
was one of the large party which watched 
Sheridan's cavalry crossing the river 
there on a pontoon bridge. The vessel 
then turned and passed through the 
fleet. The ships were ranged in double 
lines and gayly decked with flags, and 
their crews cheered madly as the Presi- 
dent's boat went by. 

During the following days at City 
Point, Tad found much to interest him. 
The river was crowded with craft, moni- 
tors and gunboats, colliers and trans- 
ports ; the great storehouses ashore were 
crammed with army supplies, and count- 
less wagons were coming and going all 
day long. The boy was a welcome guest 
on board Admiral Porter's flagship, the 
Malvern, and it was an easy trip down 

72 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

the gangplank of the River Queen, across 
the pier, and up the gangplank of the 
steamship Martin, on board of which 
were the family of General Grant. The 
lad became as great a favorite at City 
Point . as he had been in the White 
House. 

City Point was opposite the triangle 
made by the junction of the Appomat- 
tox, which flowed by Petersburg, and 
the James, which flowed past Richmond. 
A long stairway led up the hill to the 
plateau upon which stood a group of 
log houses, in the centre of which was 
the headquarters cabin, furnished only 
with four tables, some chairs, and a 
pile of charts. The plain beyond was 
covered with huts and tents, but these 
had been vacated, for the last hours of 

73 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

the Confederacy were at hand, and all 
the troops were in pursuit of Lee. 

Tad dimbed many times to the head- 
quarters hut, and he especially en- 
joyed the band which played on the 
plateau every afternoon. "There comes 
our band," he would shout, as he 
heard them in the distance. One day 
he made the seventh in a historic group 
which included the commander-in-chief, 
and six of the Union generals, with 
Grant and Sherman among them. 

Tad's mother returned to Washing- 
ton on April i, but the boy remained 
with his father. Sunday, the second, 
passed quietly, a beautiful, mild, spring 
day. That night great explosions shook 
the earth. Arsenals, powder magazines, 
and ironclads were being blown up. 

74 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

Flying brands fired the lower part of 
the Confederate capital, and when dawn 
broke a conflagration was raging. The 
last of the soldiers in gray marched 
over a bridge and burned it behind 
them. There was a little interval of 
respite for the city which had flung back 
the Federals again and again ; and then 
the soldiers in blue came marching in, 
their bands playing "Yankee Doodle" 
and '*The Star Spangled Banner." All 
Monday Richmond was a city of des- 
olation, peopled with destitute women 
and children. Piles of furniture were 
heaped upon the grass, which sprang 
fresh and green in the parks and squares. 
The fruit trees already were in bloom, 
and butterflies were hovering about the 
dandelions. All nature was smiling 

75 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

upon Richmond, encircled with trenches 
and forts, battle-torn and scarred, full 
of starvation and sickness, as if the 
spirit of the springtime would bring 
balm to the hearts of a people who for 
four years had hoped and prayed and 
endured and desperately struggled on. 
The next day the President came. 
Up the James River, in a big barge 
manned by twelve sturdy sailors, the 
emancipator was brought to the Con- 
federate capital. The boat carried 
also a detachment of marines, a naval 
captain, an officer of the signal corps, 
a cipher telegraph operator. Admiral 
Porter, and a small boy. Lincoln in- 
tently watched the city as the barge 
drew near a landing not far from Libby 
Prison. He recognized a war corre- 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



spondent whom he saw standing on the 
shore, and called to know if the reporter 
could direct them to the headquarters 
of General Weitzel. Receiving an 
affirmative reply, the boat was swept 
alongside the landing. Out stepped six 
marines armed with carbines ; after 
them came the President, wearing as 
usual his high stovepipe hat and his 
long frock coat, and Tad, who was tightly 
clutching his father's hand ; then the 
Admiral and the other officers, and 
finally six more blue-jacketted marines. 
The news spread like wild fire all over 
the waterfront. Half a hundred negroes, 
who were earning their rations by build- 
ing a canal bridge under the orders of 
an army engineer, ran shouting to the 
landing. From the little side streets 

n 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

poured scores of women and children, 
their white eyeballs rolling in wonder. 

"Hallelujah! Bress the Lord!" they 
shouted. *'Massa Linkum ! Massa 
Linkum ! Glory, glory, hallelujah!" 

They burst into camp-meeting re- 
frains ; they laughed like lunatics ; they 
embraced each other, and leaped up 
and down, and swung their straw hats 
and turbans. They had lived to see 
the man who had made them free, and 
they surged about their deliverer in a 
frenzy of joy. There were some, too, 
who regarded him with silent, stupefied 
wonder. The streets became almost 
impassable as the President's party 
mounted toward Capitol Square. Fi- 
nally they halted, and a cavalry soldier 
was sent for a larger escort. 

78 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

At the base of Capitol Hill an aged 
negro, decrepit in person and dilapidated 
in dress, lifted his battered straw hat, 
baring a snow-white head, and fell 
upon his knees in the road. "May 
the good Lord keep you safe, Massa 
Linkum," he said. The President re- 
garded the old man gravely, and then 
lifted his own hat and bowed, while 
the excited crowd gaped in wonder. 
The emancipator had taken off his hat 
to a former slave ! Women in bright 
turbans which looked like enormous 
tulips invoked the blessings of heaven 
upon ''Massa Linkum's little boy." 
Never had the President's face worn 
a sadder smile. The bluecoats about 
him saw the gleam of tears in his eyes. 

The tramp was resumed, and the 

79 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

green of the restful square was traversed. 
The Hnden trees were fragrant, and the 
squirrels were playing about the grass. 
Over the way was St. Paul's Church, 
where two days before the sexton had 
tiptoed up the aisle to hand the President 
of the Confederacy his summons. There 
was the Department Building, before 
which the government papers had been 
burned. The homely man from the 
North looked at the Capitol with its 
white Doric columns and glanced up at 
the stars and stripes which had replaced 
the stars and bars at last. Before the 
speaker's chair in the room which had 
been the Virginia Hall of Delegates, 
Stonewall Jackson had lain in state 
two years before. 
The party went to Shockoe Hill, 

80 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

where, in the house with tail, white 
pillars and long windows which had 
been the executive mansion of the 
Southern States, General Weitzel had 
made his headquarters. The President 
climbed the steps and dropped into a 
chair in one of the rooms, and it happened 
to be the very chair which had been 
used at his writing-desk by Jefferson 
Davis. Tad was still at his father's 
side. 

That afternoon, in an ambulance with 
Tad upon his knee and a cavalry escort 
clattering behind. President Lincoln rode 
down Grace Street and over a section 
of the city. The night was spent aboard 
the Malvern, But the next morning the 
father and the boy again came ashore 
in the barge and spent several hours 

8i 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

looking upon the desolation of the cap- 
tured citadel. The President saw the 
hospitals where wounded and . dying 
soldiers had been cared for by the brave 
women of the Confederacy, the sewing- 
rooms where those women had made 
uniforms and scraped lint, and the pris- 
ons where captive Federals had suf- 
fered and languished. He stopped long 
before the bronze equestrian statue of 
Washington, with Jefferson and Mar- 
shall and other Virginians about him. 
He gazed at the red brick houses, the 
ironwork balconies, and the walls covered 
with vines shutting in the pretty gar- 
dens. He looked across from the hills, 
whence the people had watched the 
little red battle flags and the toy shells 
bursting in tiny puffs of smoke in the 

82 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

far distance during the Seven Days' 
Battles. At the Confederate mansion 
they told him that from the garden the 
campfires of two armies were seen night 
after night, for almost a year, and their 
bugles heard. 

It was beautiful, this city of seven 
hills, he thought, and he fell into a 
revery over the guns that had rumbled 
over these cobbles and the drums that 
had beaten funeral marches for four 
long years. For four years he had suf- 
fered with the South, and he was suffer- 
ing with the South now. The lines 
upon his face were deep, very deep, and 
his countenance was very pale. The 
negroes hurrahed for him ; they ran 
with their pickaninnies that the children 
might see him ; they pointed out little 

83 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

Tad to their boys and called down 
blessings upon them both. He saluted 
them sometimes, but his smiles were 
few. The men riding with him unobtru- 
sively watched him, and none of them 
ever forgot the dignity and pathos of 
his bearing. One of his smiles brought 
healing to the heart of the young wife 
of the soldier who had led the great 
charge at Gettysburg, and Tad was 
delighted to see a plump baby reach 
from the arms of Mrs. Pickett and 
kiss his father. At last the President 
said: *'Tad, I can't stand any more; 
we'll go home." 

A tug towed the barge back to City 
Point. 



84 




IV 

"^WO days after their return, Tad 
and his father were once more 
together before the pubUc. Back in 
the White House, Tad let loose again 
all his abounding energies. Upon the 
second night at home the mansion was 
illuminated, and all Washington was 
full of jubilation. The war was over; 
Petersburg and Richmond were taken ; 
the news of the surrender of Lee was 
upon everybody's lips. Thousands of 
persons tramped out Pennsylvania 
Avenue to the home of the President 
to cheer "Father Abraham." Brass 
bands marched to the mansion, playing 

85 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

not only ''John Brown" but ''Dixie" 
and "Maryland, My Maryland." Fire- 
works were set off upon the lawns. 
From the Navy Yard a small battery 
was dragged to the residence, and 
salutes were fired every few minutes. 
Suddenly the din doubled. There 
were tremendous cheers and roars of 
laughter. The multitude were almost 
in a frenzy over a Confederate flag which 
a small boy, in the uniform of a lieutenant 
of United States Volunteers, was waving 
frantically from a second-story window. 
It was Tad, of course, and how the crowd 
did enjoy his prank ! Poor old Edward, 
his dignity outraged by the breach of 
decorum, was scandalized. He tried 
desperately to drag the little chap away 
from the window and to confiscate the 

86 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

banner. "A rebel flag from the win- 
dows of the White House ! Tad, Tad !" 
Outside the people shouted in sheer 
happiness over the scene. The boy 
fought the butler energetically for a 
time, then suddenly dropped the flag 
and turned just at the right instant 
to bolt into his father's arms. 

The moment the President was seen, 
a roar that almost shook the building 
burst from the throng. Quietly stoop- 
ing forward a little, he looked out upon 
the people. His face was beaming. 
The lines of care seemed almost smoothed 
away. He was happy and content. 
These were his friends. Many of them 
had seen him day after day in the avenues 
of Washington. They had come to his 
home to cheer him, but their cheers 

87 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

were for their common country, for 
their flag, not one of whose stars was to 
be lost ; their resounding hurrahs were 
a spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm, 
significant of the loyalty and devotion 
which had fought the awful war through 
to the end. He was not any more to 
hear the volleys of the firing squads 
shooting deserters ; no more would the 
long lines of stretchers bear the wounded 
to the hospitals, nor the muffled drums 
throb the requiems of the dead. The 
war was over. He had "fondly hoped'* 
and *' devoutly prayed", and "the 
scourge of war" had "passed away." 
If only some artist might have painted 
him then as he brooded tenderly upon 
that spectacle ! He began to speak : 
"We, meet this evening, not in sorrow, 

88 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

but in gladness of heart. The evacua- 
tion of Petersburg and Richmond, and 
the surrender of the principal army, 
give hope of a righteous and speedy 
peace, whose joyous expression can not 
be restrained. In the midst of this, 
however. He from whom all blessings 
flow must not be forgotten." 

A profound silence fell upon the crowd. 
Their heartbeats could almost be heard. 
They scarcely breathed. Every one 
was intent to hear the message which 
their President was bringing them. 
And there in the midst of the throng, 
their brains teeming with murderous 
plots, were Lewis Payne and John 
Wilkes Booth ! 

The address was written, and the 
candles had not been placed high enough 

89 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

for the towering speaker to see the 
sheets well. He took a candle in his 
hand and read on, but, coming to the 
end of a page, he availed himself of the 
services of a guest, who stood behind 
him and held the light until the end of 
the little speech was reached. As the 
President finished reading each page, he 
let the manuscript fall sheet by sheet 
upon the floor, and Tad, who had made 
a trip to the dining-room with satis- 
factory results, came back just in time 
to pursue the fluttering leaves as they 
dropped from his father's hand. In 
full view of the crowd, he crept about 
his father's feet on hands and knees, 
and if the interval between sheets seemed 
long, he would lift his ardent face as if 
asking for more. It was an unforget- 

90 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

able picture : a vast sea of faces over 
which the hght of the torches played, 
all gazing at the tall figure of the Presi- 
dent ; the emancipator reading his last 
address to the people, and occasionally 
lifting his foot in a queer, admonitory 
way to warn Tad that he must not 
interrupt the reading. Who shall say 
that as Lincoln read his remarks on 
reconstruction, he was not thinking also 
of the lad who had been the apple of his 
eye and the solace of his heart during 
the dreary years of civil strife ? 



91 



V 

ON the morning of April 14, General 
Grant arrived in Washington, and 
with him was Captain Robert Lincoln. 
Late in the afternoon, the Secretary of 
War called at the White House and 
had a talk with the President. After- 
ward with Mrs. Lincoln he took a drive, 
and Tad, for once, was left behind. 
They talked of the future, and Mrs. 
Lincoln remarked that she had not seen 
her husband so cheerful since the death 
of their second son, Willie. 

That night Washington went on a 
lark. The night was flooded with moon- 
light, but the houses were lighted from 

92 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



cellar to attic. Business houses, gov- 
ernment buildings, and private resi- 
dences were gorgeously decorated with 
flags and bunting. The theatres were 
a mass of bright colors, and flaming 
announcements were posted to attract 
the crowds who would certainly be seek- 
ing amusement on that festal occasion. 
The streets were filled with torchlight 
processions, and the inspiring strains 
of martial music were heard in every 
square. 

Both the leading playhouses had sent 
invitations to the President to occupy 
that night the box always reserved for 
him, and to C. Dwight Hess, the acting 
manager of Grover's, Mrs. Lincoln wrote 
in reply that the President already had 
accepted an invitation to Ford's, but 

93 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

that Tad with his tutor would be glad 
to come to the National. 

The boy and his escort arrived early, 
and, after a little visit behind the scenes, 
the boxes now having been all sold, 
they were shown to seats well at the 
front of the house. 

So it happened that while the father 
was witnessing a performance of "Our 
American Cousin" and smiling over the 
drolleries of "Lord Dundreary", Tad 
was enjoying the "great Oriental Specta- 
cle of Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp ", 
with "magnificent scenery, wonderful 
mechanical effects, grand ballets, beau- 
tiful tableaus ", and, between the acts, 
a patriotic poem composed for the occa- 
sion, called "The Flag of Sumter." 

After awhile a messenger came to 

94 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

Tad's companion and whispered some- 
thing to him. The tutor seemed sur- 
prised and bewildered, but he turned 
to the boy and told him that word had 
been brought that Mr. Lincoln was ill, 
and that perhaps it would be well for 
them to return to the White House. 
As soon as they had retired, Mr. Hess, 
with a very white face, came before the 
curtain, and to an audience that Sud- 
denly, as by the electric thrill of pre- 
monition, became as still as the grave, 
he made his terrible announcement. 
As if they were afraid to breathe, the 
people walked past the soldiers now on 
guard at the doors and out into the 
moonlight. 

The hoofs of cavalry horses soon 
came pounding over the cobblestones. 

95 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

The lights in the dwelhngs were all 
extinguished. But all night long women 
huddled together in groups at the win- 
dows and waited and wondered. All 
night long rumors flashed over the 
stricken city of rebel raids, of wholesale 
assassinations, and of lootings and burn- 
ings. Blue-clad sentinels during the 
whole night patrolled the streets, through 
which horsemen dashed, bearing orders 
and despatches. An enormous throng 
stood in the streets about the house to 
which ''Father Abraham" had been 
carried. All night long couriers bore 
bulletins from that secretary whom the 
President had playfully called '' Mars", 
now keeping vigil in the house of death 
in Tenth Street, to the telegraph office 
in the War Department, whence the 

96 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

operators, almost speechless with grief, 
sent them to New York to be distrib- 
uted over the country and the world. 
And in the morning thousands of men, 
infuriated, despairing men, tramped to 
their homes and told the dire tidings 
to the waiting women. 

At the White House door Thomas 
Pendel, who had been a member of the 
President's bodyguard and now was 
stationed at the entrance to his home, 
was awaiting the return of the theatre 
party. Somehow the tidings reached 
him. No one knows just how the 
story was wafted over Washington that 
night. The horror spread and all in an 
instant seemed to blanket the joy of 
the people, put out their lights, and 
silence their cheers. Pendel had to 

97 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

notify Secretary John Hay and Captain 
Robert Lincoln, and they hastened 
away to Tenth Street. 

Scarcely had they gone ere Pendel, 
quivering with apprehension, had to 
receive Tad and his tutor. The boy 
came running up the steps and through 
the portico, sobbing as if his heart 
would break. Into the arms of the 
agitated doorkeeper he tumbled, just 
as a thousand times he had dashed into 
the embrace of his father, crying: "O 
Tom Pen ! O Tom Pen ! They've 
killed my papa day ! They've killed 
my papa day !" 

As tenderly as ever his father might 
have done, Pendel, who was almost as 
tall as Lincoln, carried the weeping boy 
up-stairs. He laid him down upon his 

98 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 



bed in the room across the hall from the 
workshop where the Cabinet consulta- 
tions had been held. As a mother would 
have done, he took ofif the lad's shoes^ 
loosened his clothing, and bathed his 
face. They wept together. Tad's lisp- 
ing syllables shaped themselves intelli- 
gibly only when he called ''Papa day, 
Papa day.'' Pendel stretched out be- 
side the boy, put his arms about him, 
and soothed him patiently until, some- 
time after midnight, Tad fell asleep and 
forgot his troubles for a time. 

All day following, the rain fell. Men 
said the heavens were weeping. In an 
hour the capital which had been a riot 
of color became a city of sepulchral 
black. The bells which had clanged in 
joy now tolled doleful dirges. The bands 

99 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

which had blared *' Dixie" and ** Yankee 
Doodle" now played a solemn dead 
march, as the President was carried 
home once more. The black people 
whom he had liberated crowded about 
his coffin. Thousands waited in line 
all day to look upon his face as he lay 
in state in the executive mansion of the 
nation. 

Secretary Welles and Attorney-gen- 
eral James Speed came through the 
upper hall that afternoon, silent and 
preoccupied with their hopes and fears. 
The boy of the White House turned 
from a window through which he had 
been looking at the crowd of wailing 
colored women and children without, 
recognized the Secretary of the Navy, 
and burst into tears. 

100 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

"Oh, Mr. Welles," he cried, "who 
killed my papa day, and why did he 
have to die ?" 

The grave men could not restrain 
their emotion, nor could they answer 
Tad's question. They could only try 
to say something comforting and pass 
on, leaving disconsolate the boy who 
had been so great a comfort to his 
martyred father. 

How many thousands have asked your 
question since then, Tad ! How many, 
indeed! "Why.?" Had he not al- 
ways "plucked a thistle and planted a 
flower wherever he thought a flower 
would grow.?" Was he not a man of 
the plain people who never forgot his 
kind .? Did not the whole nation, South 

lOI 



TAD AND HIS FATHER 

as well as North, need him ? Why 
might he not have had a Httle of the 
gladness of the morning after the purga- 
torial darkness of the night of suffering ? 
He had grown old so frightfully fast ; 
could he not have had a few years to 
grow young again ? How can either 
reason or conscience include the death 
of Lincoln within any reasonable ideal 
of a moral universe ? Yes, Tad, your 
question touches upon the mysteries 
of time and eternity. It involves the 
problems over which the greatest minds 
and hearts of the world have wrestled 
and prayed. But when you went away 
a few years later and joined your father, 
then, Tad, I think — although I cannot 
be quite sure — I think that then you 
found an answer. 

102 



